CHAPTER 25: BELLA'S MISCHIEVOUS STREAK
As Harry emerged from the fireplace within the confines of Grimmauld Place's kitchen, Bellatrix followed closely behind, appearing mere moments after him. Harry's anticipation for this moment had been building since his return from the bank earlier that day.
"You've had experience with this, haven't you? Is it perilous?" Bellatrix queried, her curiosity evident as she trailed after Harry.
"It can pose a threat, especially if one's willpower is feeble. They have a way of fighting back by tampering with your thoughts," Harry confessed, guiding their steps toward the library, where he intended to delve into the task at hand.
"I possess strong Occlumency skills," Bellatrix affirmed confidently, her assurance evident as they stepped into the library, ready to confront the challenge that lay before them.
"I had to work hard at it myself; it wasn't something that came naturally," Harry confessed, observing as Bellatrix placed her palm on the concealed safe.
When the door swung open, Harry wasted no time, swiftly retrieving the diary—the initial and most potent of the Horcruxes. Carefully dropping it onto the floor, he promptly secured the vault, recognizing its purpose in containing the malevolent energies. This precaution was vital; it ensured that any trace magic or protective enchantments from the other Horcruxes wouldn't interfere with the destruction of this one.
With steely determination, Harry knelt beside the Horcrux, drawing the goblin-crafted dagger from its sheath. The silver blade gleamed as he plunged it into the dark object. A burst of inky blackness erupted from the diary, accompanied by an agonizing, piercing shriek that reverberated through the room. The swirling mist dissipated into nothingness, leaving behind only a faint scent of sulfur lingering in the air. The Horcrux was obliterated.
"That was rather jarring," Bella complained, retrieving Hufflepuff's cup from the safe before sealing it shut.
"Yeah, the screaming is part of their final protest," Harry acknowledged, reminiscing about the disconcerting echoes of previous Horcrux destructions.
"I'd like to handle this one," Bellatrix declared, extending her hand expectantly towards Harry.
"Sure, but be cautious. The blade is exceptionally sharp—any mishap, and it's fatal," Harry cautioned, passing her the dagger with care.
"I understand," Bellatrix affirmed, her expression resolute as she concentrated on the task at hand.
Harry observed as she gripped the dagger firmly, raising it about a foot above the cup. With swift determination, she thrust the blade into the cup. Similar to before, a cloud of darkness erupted, coalescing into a familiar countenance—an image that Harry hadn't previously noticed. The shrill, piercing wail resonated through the air as the cloud dissipated into nothingness.
"The next one's mine," Harry asserted, rising to his feet and extending a hand to help Bellatrix up, a sense of purpose driving him forward to face the next Horcrux in their quest.
As Bellatrix opened the safe, Harry retrieved the locket—a haunting reminder of the arduous months spent evading the Death Eater-controlled Ministry.
"This one gave me quite the trouble last time," Harry remarked, his voice laced with memories of the struggles he faced while carrying this malevolent trinket during his fugitive days.
Returning to the spot where the diary had met its end, Harry carefully placed the locket on the floor. With determined resolve, he reached for the dagger, using it to gently pry the locket open.
"Open up, you wretched thing," Harry hissed in Parseltongue, the ancient language of snakes that he had mastered.
In response to his command, a faint click echoed, and the locket yielded, opening of its own accord. Before the locket had fully unfurled, an eerie voice emerged from within, speaking before the artifact revealed its secrets.
As the locket opened and a familiar voice began, "Harry Potter, I have seen your heart, and it is—" Harry wasted no time. Swiftly and decisively, he drove the dagger into the locket, severing the connection and silencing Tom Riddle's voice mid-sentence. He vividly remembered how the situation had escalated when Ron hesitated during the destruction of the locket the last time.
Instantly, the piercing scream echoed out, accompanied by billowing black mist that emerged from both halves of the locket. Harry was prepared for the display, recalling the sulfuric scent that lingered afterward, a testament to the eradication of another Horcrux.
"I'll handle the last one," Bellatrix announced, retrieving the golden box containing the ring from the safe.
"Just be careful with the capstone," Harry cautioned as Bellatrix joined him again, kneeling beside him.
"Understood," Bellatrix responded, opening the box and emptying the ring onto the floor.
"Here," Harry said, extending the dagger to her with caution, aware of the importance of precision and care in this final crucial act of destroying the Horcruxes.
Bellatrix grasped the dagger firmly in her right hand, hesitating for a split second before plunging the blade into the thick, golden band of the ring. Instantly, a dense cloud of blackness billowed forth, prompting them both to recoil. The eerie wail of the Horcrux reverberated through the room, penetrating their ears despite their desperate attempts to muffle the sound by covering them tightly with their palms.
The cacophony persisted until the black mist dissipated into nothingness, leaving behind a relieved silence that enveloped the room.
"Thank Merlin," Harry exhaled, his relief palpable as he retrieved the dagger from the floor and returned it to its sheath.
"One left," Bellatrix remarked, initiating the task of gathering the remnants of the shattered Horcrux vessels, a sense of determination coloring her actions as she tidied the remnants of the malevolent artifacts. The end of their daunting mission was within reach, with only one final Horcrux left to confront.
Harry nodded, acknowledging the lingering complexity of dealing with the Horcrux embedded within his younger self.
With a flick of his wand, he deftly separated the resurrection stone from the Gaunt ring before rising to his feet, the task completed. Meanwhile, Bellatrix had already gathered the other three items, suggesting they return them to the safety of the vault.
"We'll stow these away, except for the locket," Harry directed, tossing the ring into the open safe.
As Bella secured the cup and diary inside the safe, Harry accepted the locket from her. "Kreacher!" he called out, summoning the house-elf.
With a characteristic 'pop,' Kreacher appeared before them. "Master Harry, what can Kreacher do for you?" the house-elf inquired with a bow.
"Here, Kreacher. Regulus's final order has been fulfilled," Harry declared, passing the mangled and defiled locket to the house-elf. The once sinister artifact now bore a nasty blackened hole through its back half, evidence of its destruction, and fulfillment of the late Regulus Black's brave mission.
Kreacher's emotional reaction touched Harry, emphasizing the significance of this moment for the loyal house-elf. "Regulus deserves to be honored. He showed immense bravery," Harry remarked, offering Kreacher a comforting pat on the shoulder as the elf gradually regained composure.
"Thank you, Master Harry. Is there anything else you require?" Kreacher inquired, his voice still trembling with emotion.
"No, Kreacher. You're free to go," Harry replied gently, allowing the house-elf to depart.
With a grateful nod, Kreacher vanished with a characteristic 'pop,' leaving Harry and Bellatrix in the kitchen.
"Your kindness is remarkable," Bellatrix praised, offering a warm smile.
"Thanks. I'm ready to call it a night and head home," Harry declared, guiding her towards the fireplace.
"Could we visit Professor Peverell? It's not too late, is it?" Bellatrix asked with a hopeful tone.
"Well, you won't be receiving any disciplinary measures from him tonight," Harry teased as they reached the fireplace.
"What do you mean?" Bellatrix inquired, clearly puzzled by Harry's statement.
"Meet me in my office in thirty minutes, and you'll find out," Harry teased playfully, stepping into the fireplace and disappearing in a flash of emerald flames, leaving Bellatrix intrigued and curious about his cryptic invitation.
As Bellatrix stood in front of Professor Peverell's office door, she took a moment to straighten her appearance. Her attire exuded a schoolgirl-like charm—she wore a white button-up shirt neatly tucked into a plaid knee-length skirt, paired with knee-high white socks and polished Mary Jane shoes. The green and silver Slytherin tie adorned her neck, and her hair was styled in playful pigtails, completing her look. Engrossed in enjoying a lollipop, she gently tapped on the door and heard the familiar voice of Professor Peverell beckoning her to enter.
With a curious glance, she noticed the placard on the door before pushing it open, revealing the inviting space of the professor's office.
In a grand chamber adorned with vintage tapestries and shelves lined with ancient tomes, Professor H.J. Peverell, the esteemed Headmaster of Hardbrooms School of Female Discipline, sat ensconced behind a regal oak desk. His presence commanded the room, and the air held an aura of scholarly reverence.
The crackling fireplace cast dancing shadows upon the room's walls, illuminating the enigmatic expressions etched across the headmaster's face. He perused a weathered parchment, his brow furrowing in concentration. The letter bore the school's crest, its edges frayed from time and handling.
A knock echoed through the chamber, drawing the headmaster's attention. "Enter," he commanded, his voice resonating with authority.
The heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing Bellatrix's figure framed against the corridor's dimly lit hallway. Professor Peverell, his countenance etched with concern, stood near his desk, a somber gravity in his expression.
"Please, come in, Miss Black," he beckoned, his voice a blend of authority and concern, though the atmosphere held a taut undercurrent of tension.
Bellatrix stepped into the room, her eyes scanning the professor's demeanor, searching for any hints of what awaited her. She shut the door quietly behind her, the latch clicking softly into place.
"Professor, what's the matter?" she inquired, a ripple of unease threading through her voice as she cautiously approached the desk.
Professor Peverell regarded her with a mixture of regret and determination. "Bellatrix, I'm afraid your conduct has reached a critical point. The faculty is exasperated, and I find myself with little choice. I must consider expulsion as the only recourse," he explained, his tone weighed down by the gravity of his words.
The color drained from Bellatrix's face, shock and fear mingling in her eyes. "Expulsion?" she gasped, the word hanging heavily in the air. "Please, Professor, I implore you. I can't face expulsion. My parents..." Her voice trailed off, the desperation evident in her trembling words.
Peverell's features softened, sympathy flickering across his stern countenance. "I understand, Bellatrix. But your actions have consequences, ones that resonate beyond these walls," he replied, his voice tinged with regret.
Tears welled up in Bellatrix's eyes as she pleaded, "I'll do anything, I promise! I'll improve, I'll make amends. Please, don't expel me."
The professor sighed heavily, torn between duty and compassion. "Your potential is undeniable, Bellatrix, but your recent behavior leaves me with little choice," he murmured, his gaze fixed on her, wrestling with the decision at hand.
The room fell silent, the weight of the impending judgment hanging palpably between them. Bellatrix's shoulders slumped, a mixture of despair and desperation etched on her face.
"Professor Peverell, please reconsider," she implored once more, her voice quivering with emotion.
The headmaster hesitated, his resolve momentarily faltering as he glanced at the distressed young woman before him. After a long, contemplative pause, he spoke, his voice gentler yet firm.
"I regret to inform you, but I find myself in a position where your presence is proving to be a distraction for the other students," sighed Harry as he casually adjusted the knot on his professorial robes.
"P-please, sir, I'll do anything, just don't expel me," Bellatrix pleaded with desperation etched across her face.
"Anything?" inquired Harry with a curious arch of his brow, allowing a moment of suspense to hang in the air.
"Anything, Professor," replied Bellatrix, her eyes shimmering with innocence as she pleaded for clemency.
"Very well, assume a position at my desk," directed Harry, stepping away and gesturing to where he wanted her to stand.
"Okay," Bellatrix responded nervously, inching towards the desk and placing her palms on its surface, stealing a glance back at him over her shoulder.
"Stay there. Remove your hands, and expulsion will be the least of your concerns," warned Harry as he approached her from behind, his demeanor firm.
"Yes, Professor," came Bellatrix's anxious response, her voice trembling with apprehension.
As the tension hung in the room, the silence was eventually broken by Harry's voice, "Now, let's discuss how you can redirect your focus and contribute positively to our learning environment."
Bellatrix bit her lip, contemplating the consequences of her actions, unsure of what lay ahead. "I-I'll do my best, Professor," she stammered, hoping to salvage her academic standing.
Harry deftly flipped up Bellatrix's skirt, revealing a glimpse of cotton white panties. His fingers hooked into the waistband, swiftly jerking them over her rounded bum, a subtle tension hanging in the air as the fabric slid down her legs.
"P-professor," Bellatrix exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, her eyes widening in a mixture of shock and uncertainty.
Harry, maintaining a commanding presence, met her gaze. "You wish to continue your education within these walls, don't you?" he inquired, his tone firm yet measured, as he gracefully knelt down to lift her leg.
"Y-yes, Professor," Bellatrix stuttered, her compliance tinged with nervous anticipation.
"Then, no more questions," Harry asserted sternly, proceeding to unbuckle her shoe with practiced ease and slipping it off. The room echoed with the subtle sounds of fabric and leather meeting the cold floor. He peeled her sock off with deliberate care before sliding her knickers over her bare foot, allowing her to place it back on the floor.
Advancing to her other leg, Harry repeated the process, removing the remaining shoe and sock before sliding her knickers all the way off. The air seemed charged with a palpable tension as the intricate dance between professor and student unfolded.
"Spread your legs wider, Miss Black," Harry instructed, standing back up and unbuttoning his outer robes. The room's atmosphere became charged with a blend of authority and expectancy.
"Yes, sir," Bellatrix responded, her voice steady as she widened her stance, her compliance adding a layer of intensity to the unfolding scene. The room seemed to hold its breath as the narrative developed, drawing readers deeper into the intricate dynamics at play.
Harry finished unbuttoning his robes and let them slide off of his shoulders leaving him wearing a button up shirt and slacks.
Harry reached his hand between her legs and ran his fingers over her slit making Bellatrix squeal in surprise.
"Oh, my Miss Black you're very excited aren't you?" Harry taunted as he wiggled his fingers through her folds.
"Yes Pr-professor," Bellatrix whimpered softly.
Harry removed his hand from her slit and unbuckled his belt before he unbuttoned his pants and freed his cock from his boxers.
"Are you ready to earn your place in this school?" Harry asked as he guided the tip of his cock to her entrance.
"Y-yes professor," Bellatrix said sounding equal parts nervous and excited.
Harry pushed his hips forward burying his shaft in her, Bellatrix threw her head back and moaned.
"You are ah so tight," Harry groaned as he slid deeper inside her.
Bellatrix fell forward to where her cheek was pressed into the surface of his desk, Harry pulled his hips back before thrusting forward pushing himself even deeper inside her
"Oh, t-that is so deep!" Bellatrix exclaimed as Harry pulled back again.
Bellatrix had been a lot of help today so he decided to suffer through another one of her dirty teacher fantasies.
After their playful bedroom role play, Harry and Bellatrix found themselves back in the realm of reality, the lingering echoes of their imaginative encounter still palpable in the air. The atmosphere, though charged with a different kind of energy, carried with it a sense of shared amusement and camaraderie.
Taking a moment to catch their breath, Harry grinned at Bellatrix, appreciating the levity they had injected into the day. "Well, that was quite the diversion, wasn't it?"
Bellatrix, a playful glint in her eyes, chuckled in agreement. "Indeed, Harry. A little escapade to break the routine can be quite refreshing."
As the afterglow of their role play settled, Harry, with a smirk, redirected the focus to the task they had initially set out to accomplish – Bellatrix earning her place at Hardbrooms.
"Back to business, my dear. Let's channel that creativity into proving your prowess at Hardbrooms," Harry declared, his tone a blend of amusement and determination.
Bellatrix, now wearing a smirk of her own, nodded in acknowledgment. "Absolutely, Professor. I'm ready to show you my magical prowess in more ways than one."
The room, once a stage for their imaginative interlude, transformed into a workspace where the challenges of Hardbrooms took center stage. The dialogue, though infused with the playful undertones of their shared role play, seamlessly transitioned into discussions of magical aptitude, strategic thinking, and the skills required for success.
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